


Reminisce

by beccastanz



Series: Becca’s Canonverse Fics [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Coming Untouched, Cum Play, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dominant Rey (Star Wars), Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face-Sitting, Flashbacks, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kissing, Light Masochism, Masturbation, Mentions of Blood, Non-Penetrative Sex, Post-TLJ, Praise Kink, Restraints, Rough Kissing, Submissive Ben Solo, Submissive Kylo Ren, The Force, The Force Ships It (Star Wars), blink and you’ll miss it mention of breath play, softer than the tags imply
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28150620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beccastanz/pseuds/beccastanz
Summary: He is eager for the sound of her lips wrapped around the name he reclaimed. But in a way, it’s hers now. His name is hers and his body is hers and his heart is hers.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Becca’s Canonverse Fics [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958131
Comments: 72
Kudos: 184
Collections: The Sub!Ben Collection





	Reminisce

**Author's Note:**

  * For [misscharleypollard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misscharleypollard/gifts).



> My first true sub!Ben fic. I hope you like it!
> 
> Based on [this tweet](https://twitter.com/miztooka/status/1334131403382984704?s=21) by [miztooka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miztooka/pseuds/miztooka):
> 
> “Every day is a good day to imagine the conversation where Ben finally admits to Rey what a ~*~raging hard-on~*~ he had after she kicked his ass into the snow”
> 
> Huge thanks to [QueenOfCarrotFlowers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfCarrotFlowers/pseuds/QueenOfCarrotFlowers) for the beta and moodboard!

Tendrils of the Force envelop him, an extension of her, his cyar’ika, his Rey.

She wears nothing but a smile, pure power radiating from every bit of bare flesh. She holds him against the chair, similarly bare, cock jutting hard and proud against his stomach. He is full, heavy with want brought by her presence, her power, her soothing dominance over him. It’s easy for her to lock his limbs exactly where she wants them, and the thought of her overpowering him is enough to fill his cock.

She holds him, yes, but not with her body. She circles, observing what her skill can reduce him to, a trembling mess of bare flesh and hunger for her.

“Rey.”

Her name is a delicacy in his mouth, reverent. There is nothing more powerful than she.

His arms twitch where they are held behind his back, pressed into the cool metal separating them from his body. It’s instinct, the way he resists the invisible bindings, testing, seeking, pushing—

“No.”

An admonishment. A reminder. This is good for him, but it is always hard fought, never easily won. He wills himself to relax, to rest the muscles of his arms, to allow himself the washed over soothe of submission. He needs this even as he fights it; his mind and body are at odds, vehement refusal of weakness combating against the need to relinquish control.

She helps him. Guides him.

His arms relax. His chest loosens.

“So good for me, Ben.”

He is eager for the sound of her lips wrapped around the name he reclaimed. But in a way, it’s hers now. His name is hers and his body is hers and his heart is hers. She holds him, somehow both gentle and anything but.

She draws it out, makes him beg. It’s one of his favorite things in the world, to be refused by her. They’ve made it their own game, painting over painful memories of refusal with hungry ones, eager ones with the happiest of endings. She refuses him, and it’s okay, because eventually she relents.

She’s always worth the wait.

She pauses her circles behind him to lay a single kiss against the tender meeting spot of neck and shoulder, the teasing brush of lips enough to make him shudder. His cock leaks, painting himself with proof of devotion.

The whine in his throat cannot be refused.

“Shh,” she coos. “It’s okay, Ben. You’re mine, remember? I know what you need.”

She does, of course she does, and he trusts her with his life, his body, his heart, but his cock does not receive the message of patience.

Still, she coaxes through the Force: power, devotion, a promise of completion if he can just be good for her.

He slips deeper into comfort.

“That’s it.”

She moves to stand in front of him, observing.

Then, a flick of her wrist and the chair begins to tilt, back and back, balanced on two legs. Suspended. Dangerous.

It lights a fire anew in his belly, precarious pleasure.

She could drop him if she wanted, send him crashing to the floor and leave his cock untouched.

He would probably still thank her.

Trust hangs in the balance, his head and body lowering, further, deeper into the abyss. She holds him, but the inevitable swoop in his stomach still persists in that moment when the chair passes the point of no return, where it would surely fall were it not for her power holding it up.

And she moves in an instant, just as he reaches the right height, and spreads her legs above his mouth.

Perilous.

He’s babbling before he can stop himself, words torn from him at the sight of what he craves so near, but hovering just out of reach.

“Please, please Rey, let me taste you—”

He can see it, a bead of wetness so close to dripping onto his tongue. He would give anything for it to fall.

She hears the admission through the bond.

“Anything?”

“Anything for you, Rey, always, please—”

She guides the chair up just enough for his tongue to collect the errant drop before letting him back down and he moans with it, moans for the tease and the taste and the relinquishing of what he wants most.

“You’re so sweet, Ben.”

The praise coaxes a drop of his own. He feels it slide down his cock, nearly torturous.

“So are you.” He makes a bit of a show of it, savoring the offering he’s been given, rolling his tongue across the roof of his mouth to show her just how much he loves her, wants her, needs her.

His cock jerks at the flavor, quickly disappearing. He can’t help but swallow it down, even as he mourns the loss.

She calls him things like _good_ and _sweet,_ sometimes with her hands around his throat, and nothing heals like her. It’s unending, sharp pleasure, beautifully balanced with the briefest pain, only ever enough to remind him how alive they are, how despite everything they’ve gone through, they have each other.

He hovers. Waiting. She has already given him a taste and he is greedy for more.

He gives her every _please_ he has, relishing in the times when she accepts his prostration.

“Please, Rey—”

He is muffled by her cunt as she yanks at invisible tethers, bringing his lips to hers, and his moan is guttural as he gorges himself on her wetness.

He has no use of his hands so he employs every bit of his face in a desperate attempt to make her feel good. She deserves it, waves of unending pleasure, and he feels almost unbearably lucky that he gets to give it to her.

He loves that she _takes_ it from him.

Then she tilts the chair back just enough to remove his lips from her cunt, and he could cry at the loss of her taste. His cock and mouth match, twin sheens of arousal.

“Who do you belong to?”

Answering her is a relief. He does not have to be anyone, not Kylo Ren or Prince Benjamin Organa Solo or Supreme Leader. He is simply _hers._

“You. You Rey, it’s always been you, please—”

“Always?” she interrupts, the barest hint of a questioning lilt behind the power of her voice. She keeps him suspended in the air, feigned nonchalance that took him ages to see through, balanced in the space between secret and confession.

“Tell me,” she demands.

He gulps, the inevitability of this moment weighing on him, thickening the air between them.

“Ben?”

It’s softer now, an offering, one he appreciates but refuses to take. She deserves to know. He wants to tell her, wants her to understand the depth of his devotion.

“I’ll show you,” he whispers, tilting his head back to meet her eyes before they both close them.

She can see him as she did when she shot at him with a blaster, when he entered her mind only to have her enter his in return. She sees him as she slashed Luke’s saber against his, blue meeting red before it met the tender flesh of his cheek, his shoulder, his chest.

She split him open.

The scenes play again, but this time, she can feel it as though she were him. The awe at her unflinching bravery, the shock of her instinctual penetration in his mind, the first to see him for who he was. His desperation when he offered to take her under his wing, knowing that even untrained she had surpassed his abilities, besting him mere moments after holding a saber for the first time.

Veneration flooded his veins, poured from his wound. The pain was all consuming, deep and delicious, made bearable by her existence. When he fell to the ground, prostrated at her feet, he wanted to _live_ there.

She gasps, a slight thing, suspended between present and past. He can hear it as they watch the ground crack, separating them as the loop of his then-feelings plays in the bond.

Wonderment. Dread. Reverence. Lust, sudden and sharp, even as his blood colored the snow. It reverberates into the present as he shows her, licking into both of them as they watch him flip to his knees beneath the trees.

_I was yours, even then cyar’ika._

The cold did not deter him, nor the pain. Both brought a single-minded clarity, sharp and fresh as he brought his hand to the waist of his breeches, pulling away his overcoat to lay a gloved hand on his now bare cock. He fisted himself, warmth seeping through leather while he thought of her, of every emotion he watched flit over her features as she bested him, flashing anger and rage, serenity in the moment she connected with the Force, shock at her own strength. 

He wanted to stoke that strength, watch her power grow and grow and be lucky enough to kneel at her side through it all. He saw her small hands gripping what was his, imagined how it might feel to have those hands wrapped around him instead of his own. He braced one fist in the snow and fell over the edge with a fury of desperation, cum and blood covering the powdery white forest floor in equal measure.

The memory consumes him and it’s so much, too much, and he can still taste her cunt on his lips and he can feel the phantom grip of the past through the bond and then—

“My sweet boy. My Ben.”

Her voice is ragged and the chair vibrates and he can feel the tremor of her thighs on either side of him.

Eyes still closed, he feels her trace a single finger down the line she made, the imprint of her claim, and it’s that which pushes him over the edge, coating his chest in cum, cock entirely untouched.

His climax is violent in its intensity, memory colluding with the present to heighten his peak. He’s babbling with it as it seems to go on for ages, unending, and his pants and moans collide with the stream of his consciousness. He doesn’t know what he’s saying out loud and what is being pushed through the bond, only that Rey must know, has to know—

“ _Gods,_ Rey, you fucking ruined me from the start.”

He grits his teeth as the final rope paints his stomach, shuddering, and suddenly he’s cold, so cold, the memory and intensity sweeping through his bones and he needs her, needs to feel her, has to know she feels the same—

She rights the chair in an instant, seats herself across his thighs and grips a hand at his jaw.

“Ben, look at me.”

He hadn’t realized his eyes were still closed.

“You’re mine.”

“It’s always been you,” he repeats, still slightly dazed. Her touch grounds him in a way nothing else does. She presses their chests together, gets herself slick and messy with his cum as she kisses him, hard and fast and desperate, teeth clashing as their sabers had that night, unrestrained and freeing.

He doesn’t realize his hands have been freed until her ass is beneath his palms. He kneads the warm and tender flesh, finger skirting beneath to feel where she is hot and dripping.

For _him._

_Gods,_ he’s lucky.

And desperation consumes him, brings words to his lips that carry no shame, not since that first night that they discovered together just what they both needed.

“Please, Rey, need to taste you, please let me make you come, I’ll be so good—”

“Yes,” she breathes against his lips, and he can’t make it to the bed, it’s too far and her cunt is so near and he wraps his arms around her as he lifts them from the chair, immediately sinking to the floor, laying himself out for her.

An offering.

“Good boy.”

He makes up for lost time, gorging himself on goodness beneath her. 

She bypasses his softening cock on her ascent up his body, pausing to drag her cunt through the mess of cum on his chest, mixing his wetness with hers.

Theirs.

She holds herself above his mouth again, cunt glistening with shared arousal, and he’s hungry for it.

His arms cradle her lower back as she settles herself over his mouth, folds already parted from her grind against his chest. She tastes like comfort, the tang of them combined flooding his senses, engulfing him in belonging. She tastes like finally getting what she deserves, and his cock makes a valiant effort to harden again at the honor of being the one to give it to her. His ferocious, determined, gorgeous scavenger, grasping at what she wants and taking it.

“That’s it, _fuck,_ Ben, so good.”

She braces herself on strong arms made stronger through their sparring, holds herself up with core strength built by tireless training, squeezes his cheeks with thighs made thick with muscle and just a bit soft by every delicacy he could find, fed to her by his hand when he begs her for the privilege of showing her what she deserves.

He holds her like she’s precious, because she is, and he digs in his fingers because she is both precious and vicious, and they share every craving.

He finally sucks her clit between his lips, alternating with sharp licks of his tongue over the entire spread of her, building her climax like it’s the greatest honor of his life, the most important thing he will ever do, because it is. Her thighs tremble, and her moans turn wild, and he urges her to press down on him harder with his hands at her back. He can take it. 

He was made to take it. 

“Ben, I’m gonna come, fuck, just like that—”

_Please, Rey,_ he projects, _make me yours._

“Mine, mine, you’re _mine,”_ she growls, lifting a single hand so she may trace the line of the scar peeking out from between her legs. He shudders at the attention, at the reminder, and then he flicks his tongue just right and her orgasm overtakes her. 

He can feel every twitch of her cunt against his mouth and it’s pure bliss to watch her come apart. He coaxes her through it, licks and sucks and presses his nose between her folds and she shudders, whines, _screams_ with it. He relishes her lack of restraint, the way she loses herself with pleasure for the world to hear. He wants the entire galaxy to know it’s _him_ that makes her feel this way. 

He wants it to last forever, and as her thighs nearly give out, he reaches with his own strength through the Force, easing the burden of holding up her body for just a few precious moments, drawing out every last second he can, for her. 

She deserves endless orgasms, and he will give them to her as long as he is permitted. 

_Forever,_ he hears as she comes down, as soft as if she had whispered it against his ear. Soothing.

She moves back to straddle his torso, rests herself yet again against his sticky chest, a few short thrusts of her messy, spit-slick cunt against him just to tease. She kisses her wetness from his lips, his chin, licks the errant drops at his throat all before plunging her tongue back into his mouth, letting him taste her again as they lay tangled on the floor.

_Thank you, Rey._

She smiles against his lips.

_The pleasure is all mine._

Hers.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts and comments very welcome, here and on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/beccastanz)!


End file.
